


baby it's cold outside

by eldureira



Series: Leopika Family: Christmas Edition [3]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: But I'm not sorry, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, I got phantom toothaches just writing this, M/M, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27888481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldureira/pseuds/eldureira
Summary: [10 Days Before Christmas]Just tooth-rotting Leopika winter fluff, set before and after their Christmas tree shopping trip."I told you time and time again not to call me sunshine." Kurapika blushed, an involuntary pout curling his delicate lips, even as he squeezed Leorio back, looping his arm around his waist. "I'm nothing like the sun. I'm not… bright.""Oh sure, that’s true. You're dark and broody and mysterious and a general pain in the ass sometimes," Leorio replied. "But you're still the brightest thing I've ever seen."
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Series: Leopika Family: Christmas Edition [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003965
Comments: 18
Kudos: 72





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 of Leopika Family: Christmas Edition is here! Yay! All fluff and no plot makes me a happy gal 🥰

**_Track 03_ **

**_15 December_ **

Kurapika used to hate mornings.

On the rare days when he’d been able to sleep through the whole night, mornings used to revive his pain back to life from the dull bliss of slumber and cause it to hurt him in an ironically new and fresh kind of way. Mornings also used to bring back a whole lot of “work” he’d rather not do, which had usually involved all sorts of abominable tasks that made him hate himself a little more each day. He used to think of mornings as something that brought him his own bleak reality on a platter, something that he’d associated with punishment and impending doom instead of hope and new beginnings. Mornings had always been scary, and rough, and deeply, unfathomably empty.

Until now.

“Noooo, Pika.” A forlorn groan, still heavy with lingering traces of sleep. “Come back. I’m cold.”

Kurapika was just starting to sit up on the edge of the bed when he felt a hand snake around his waist from behind, almost spanning the whole width of his stomach. One insistent pull later and he fell back diagonally, his head hitting first the pillow and then a firm, bare shoulder. 

Kurapika sighed with annoyance, even though now he was encased in such comfortable warmth it actually made him want to purr instead. He was being snuggled to Leorio’s ridiculously broad chest like a child’s stuffed toy, feeling the other man’s gentle breath tickle the top of his head, his heartbeat a hypnotic, steady rhythm. It was almost enough to lull him back to sleep’s open arms, but his self-control and sense of organization proved to be stronger.

“Let me go, Leorio, you big baby. We have to be at Cyma’s as soon as it opens or it will be too swamped with people,” Kurapika said, trying to wriggle out of Leorio’s embrace.

But Leorio only tightened his hold on the blond, cutting off any openings for escape. “Whywillitbeswamped,” he mumbled against Kurapika’s hair, the vibration sparking a line of electricity all the way down his spine. It was a very, very tempting sensation, but Kurapika was nothing if not incredibly resolute.

“We’re going to one of the largest department stores in town during the peak of Christmas season. Just do the math, Leorio. It should be easy enough, even for you.”

Leorio laughed softly. “God, Pika, you’re even colder than the weather.”

“But you love it.”

“But I love it,” Leorio assented. He’d gotten much better at handling Kurapika’s snark after all these years of living together, no longer answering with angry screams and wounded pride, mostly because he knew that Kurapika never meant any of it to hurt. 

Well, most of the time, at least. Some days they still argued like their lives depended on it.

_ But I still love you anyway, you brat. Thorns and all. _

Leorio knew that approximately fifteen minutes had passed since he first heard Kurapika’s phone alarm went off, which meant that it was already a quarter past eight. They only had less than an hour to get ready if they wanted to be out of the house by nine. The drive from their suburban home to Cyma’s, the trendiest department store in York New City, usually took almost an hour, not counting the possibility of traffic jams. The store opened at 10 o’clock, and this time of year, people usually flocked there from lunchtime until late at night to shop for Christmas presents, take part in various Christmas-themed events, or just to enjoy the season’s festive vibes from its lavish decorations. What Kurapika said was right, they’d better get there as soon as possible before they literally had to fight throngs of shoppers just to buy a new Christmas tree (they’d done the rest of their Christmas shopping since the last week of November because Kurapika was most definitely  _ not  _ a deadliner).

But the morning air was so _ cold. _ It felt like the frozen draft of December winds was already a permanent resident in their bedroom, even though they hadn’t even opened the windows. It was the kind of cold that burrowed into his bones, whispering icy seductions into his every conscious thought, inviting him to just rest, and sleep, and leave any semblance of productivity for warmer, later days. And Kurapika was so warm, so open and soft and familiar, like a pool of happy memories he’d gladly sink into and never come out of. He felt like safety, and acceptance, and love. Like the embodiment of every notion in the world that was delicately lovely and unbearably precious.

Leorio’s reality was starting to blur at the edges, on the verge of being replaced by the silky surrealism of dreams once more, and he didn’t realize that his grip on Kurapika had turned slack. The next thing he knew, Kurapika was already straddling him, his thighs pressing into Leorio’s middle, looking almost high and mighty, like an emperor on his warhorse.  _ Like an angel,  _ his sleepy thought whispered.  _ Wielding blades of fire, wearing crowns of starlight, both danger and hope personified. I’ll follow him anywhere, goddammit, even to the very gates of hell. _

“I take it you’re now ready to wake up for good, Leorio, since you’re already conscious enough to stare,” Kurapika declared, smirking down at Leorio. He traced Leorio’s bare stomach with his thumb, rhythmic patterns that were both sobering and intoxicating, eliciting a groan from the other man.

“I’m not staring, Pika. I’m dreaming with my eyes open.”

Kurapika raised his eyebrows. “Fine. Then you can pretend this is a lucid dream where you actually wake up and get out of bed.”

Leorio chuckled. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I’d rather wake up for real.” He sat up, using Kurapika’s thighs as handholds. He smiled up at him, nuzzling his chin with his nose. “But only if you kiss me first, sunshine.”

Kurapika wrinkled his nose. “No. You stink of morning breath. And don’t call me sunshine.”

“I do not!” Leorio frowned, looking mortifyingly offended.

“You absolutely do.”

“Do not! You want me to prove it?”

Kurapika noted the naughty gleam in Leorio’s eyes, but it was too late. “No! Leorio! Ahahahaha — stop it, your stubble tickles.”

They tumbled back down to the bed, Leorio peppering Kurapika with kisses that landed on the blond’s cheeks, along his jaw, and up toward his temples. Kurapika sighed with resignation, hooking his arms behind Leorio’s neck. Still laughing gingerly, he gently pulled Leorio’s face toward him and softly kissed him first, fully on the mouth, despite his earlier testimony. Leorio tasted like rumpled beds and morning dew, like new dawn breaking after a stormy night, like a hopeful promise that everything warm and good in the world was just beginning, bright and purposeful like a light at the end of a tunnel.  _ You call me sunshine, but you’re the radiant one, Leorio. _

Their kiss grew in fierceness and intensity, all tongues and teeth and wandering hands and fluttered eyelids. Kurapika didn’t really know how he’d ended up on top, but Leorio’s hands were freely roaming his backside now, warming him down to his very core and lighting him up from within, despite the wintry chill in the air. In fact, __ as far as Kurapika was concerned, _ Leorio _ was his air now. The only thing he breathed, the only thing that mattered in this very moment. And Leorio was hungrily kissing him back, with a captivating eagerness, luring him in and edging him out, over and over and over. What began as a lazy, chaste, early-morning kiss was quickly turning into a heated race over who could make the other submit to his own desires first. And neither one of them were particularly fond of losing.

They were both breathless by the time they broke apart. Kurapika’s entire world was slightly tinted with a rosy, rich shade of red, making it hard for him to think clearly. All he could manage to say was Leorio’s name, a living chant conjured from a timeless reverie, a fulfillment of a stargazing wish.

“Leorio,” he breathed.

“Kurapika.” There was wonder in the way Leorio said his name, a total admiration he still didn’t think he fully deserved. Leorio always looked at him like he was a miracle, not knowing that he himself was the one who was too good to be true, too precious to be held in his stained hands. He felt Leorio’s fingers tracing his cheek tenderly, carefully, as though he was made of glass, as though he was the rarest treasure in the entire world. Leorio continued to gaze at him and at the scarlet swirling inside his eyes like one enraptured; sweetly, passionately, a little disbelievingly. Kurapika allowed himself to bask in that gaze for a moment longer before closing his eyes and trying to gather his scattered wits back. When he opened his eyes again, he tried to make his next words sound like an admonishment. 

“Leorio, if we continue this, we’re going to be very late.”

“Not if we kill two birds with one stone, we’re not.”

Kurapika raised his eyebrows, posing a silent question, and Leorio laughed out loud at the sight. Confusion was not a regular visitor on Kurapika’s face, and it always brought him immense pride to successfully be the one who put it there. The fact that it made him look even more adorable than usual was just an added bonus. Smirking a little, he replied, “What do you say we finish this in the shower, hmm? That way we’ll save time. It requires multitasking and teamwork, though, but I think we have proven time and time again that we excel in exactly those kinds of things.” He ran a tantalizing finger down the column of Kurapika’s neck, his smirk growing wider when the fluttery pulse he felt there started to thump. “What do you think, Peeks?”

The look in Kurapika’s eyes was almost predatory, lit by a faintly luminous fire that started to burn anew. “I’m still surprised you can actually be smart sometimes, Leorio.” He then nimbly skipped down from the bed, quick and graceful. “I agree. Race you to the bathroom?”

“Hey, I’m always smart!! Take that back, you brat!” Leorio scrambled to follow, cursing when his gangly limbs couldn’t manage as smooth a descent. “Take that back, Kurapika!”

Kurapika turned around at the threshold to their en-suite bathroom, his laugh echoing high and giddy.

“Make me,  _ Mister  _ Leorio.”

Oh, Leorio was going to  _ make  _ him, all right.


	2. Postlude

“You alright, Peeks?”

Kurapika gritted his teeth.  _ Why did we have to park so far from the store entrance?  _ The shopping for a new Christmas tree had been done uneventfully, ending with the saleslady assuring them that  _ yes, the tree will most certainly be delivered today before 6 p.m.  _ However, the walk to their car in this horrible, freezing weather still remained to be conquered, all because Leorio had adamantly refused to park in the mall’s basement lot because he thought it was  _ too expensive. _ He huffed an exasperated breath, fighting the urge to engage Leorio in yet another meaningless argument.

“I’m fine, Leorio. Stop fussing,” he replied, clutching the warm paper of his coffee cup tighter. If he was being honest, he couldn’t really feel his own fingers right now. The cold was seeping through his tan coat and multiple layers of sweaters underneath, freezing his insides and making him exceptionably irritable. He never really understood Leorio’s fascination with winter. Cold weather made him slow and sluggish, sapping his fuels of determined energy and replacing it with a kind of helpless indulgence. Winter made the world somehow grind to a halt, like it wasn’t just the rivers and lakes that get frozen over, but also time itself. However, his work and duties and mundane chores didn’t get to stop, and although he actually looked forward to the holiday season, he hated having to go out amidst the blasted winds and chill to make said holiday especially enjoyable.

Kurapika watched Leorio walk a few paces in front of him. He cut a rather impressive figure, wrapped in an elegant black coat and light brown scarf that seemed to annoyingly bring out his eyes. He seemed to fit right in with the wintry landscape, with the way his dark visage complemented the pale, muted snow being crushed on the sidewalk, and the way the soft, watery light of the sky got reflected in his small teashades, painting them in gradient shades of gray. Then again, Leorio always had the ability to blend in with any type of situation, falling right at home under any kind of spotlight, even though he sometimes did it just to satisfy whatever impulses he was feeling at the moment. It would make sense for Leorio to love winter for the little things of beauty he benefited from along the way, ones he wouldn’t even hesitate to wrestle the ground to find, because that’s just the way he was. Kurapika was sure that Leorio would look at trampled snow and see purity, at barren wastelands and see a fresh page, one that would uncover the potentials of beauty hidden beneath once spring comes.  _ Or maybe even potential business opportunities,  _ he thought as he rolled his eyes.

“Pika, come here. Give me your hand.” Leorio had stopped in his tracks and was now standing half-turned towards Kurapika, holding out his right hand. 

Kurapika bristled. “I told you I’m fine, Leorio. I’m not cold. And I can walk by myself just fine,” he insisted, even though as soon as the words were out, his boots started to slip in a particularly icy patch of the sidewalk, making him wobble a little. He recovered quickly and proceeded to stride faster, outpacing Leorio and avoiding his eyes so the taller man couldn’t see the flush creeping up his cheeks. His coffee had even started to cool, and his fingers were numb, so stiffened by the biting cold he could imagine them turning into snowflakes. But he didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to seem so weak that he needed assistance just to goddamn  _ walk. _ The ice cracked under his leather boots, sending pinpricks of cold up his leg. Kurapika bit back a frustrated sigh. He chugged the rest of his coffee before it could turn completely lukewarm and crumpled the cup before throwing it down a roadside trash can.

“I don’t give a damn whether or not you’re cold, Kurapika, because  _ I’m  _ the one who’s cold. So get your ass over here before I have to use force." Leorio managed to make his speech sound both like a command and a whine. He caught up to Kurapika in no time at all, and soon Kurapika was engulfed in a one-armed hug, his side body pressed close to Leorio’s.  _ Damn him and his impossibly long legs.  _ "I need my sunshine to keep me warm, you know," Leorio said sullenly, squeezing Kurapika tighter by the shoulder, flowing torrents of warmth back into his rigid limbs.

"I told you time and time again not to call me sunshine." Kurapika blushed, an involuntary pout curling his delicate lips, even as he squeezed Leorio back, looping his arm around his waist. "I'm nothing like the sun. I'm not… bright."

"Oh sure, that’s true. You're dark and broody and mysterious and a general pain in the ass sometimes," Leorio replied. "But you're still the brightest thing I've ever seen."

Leorio remembered the day that nickname had popped inside his mind on top of the Trick Tower’s roof, with the sun shining brilliantly, painting the sky a vibrant hue of blues and yellows. Kurapika’s golden hair had seemed to blaze with such white-hot brilliance, he’d wondered if he wasn’t some kind of haloed deity about to blast the Earth to rubble and still somehow bring news of salvation. He’d seemed to shine with an inherent and incandescent light from within, illuminating all corners of his soul, even the parts he didn’t even want to deal with, didn’t even dare to acknowledge out loud, for fear of the universe screwing him over yet again. Against all odds, this little blond-haired smartass had managed to draw him out in unconventional ways, driving him crazy with his barbed remarks and disassembling Leorio’s crude facade with an effortless, unpredictable manner, all at the same time. Being looked at by Kurapika was like standing in an open patch of sunlight; no matter how much he tried to fight, the light would always manage to get in and rearrange almost every piece of himself. It was bothersome and annoying, but it was also somehow… necessary. Kurapika had become an integral, necessary part of himself in just a few days of knowing him. And that part just became bigger and bigger with the passing years, until now he was literally the one who kept his world running in its proper orbit.

“How can I be the brightest thing you’ve ever seen if I’m also dark and broody and all those other insults you just threw at me?” Kurapika challenged, looking up at Leorio through narrowed eyes. “That just doesn’t make sense, and you know it.”

“Well, you know what, it’s just like… You know how the sun sometimes doesn’t show, right? Like when it’s rainy or snowy or stormy. Or even on sunny days, it can be covered by clouds or something. But it’s actually still there,” Leorio answered, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know if I can explain this well enough, but basically think of it like this: the sun’s light never disappears even though sometimes we can’t see it. It’s still the brightest star in the sky, and that’s a given fact. And — well — you know, the same thing also applies to you, Kurapika,” he added, absent-mindely running his hand through the silky gold of Kurapika’s hair. “Sometimes you can be all doom and gloom, but it doesn’t change the light that you have on the inside. You think you’re defined by those dark moments of yours, but you’re not. You’re always the same Pika I know, selfless and kind and loyal and loving, and the sassiest smartass I’ve ever had the privilege to meet. That fact will never, ever change. Your light will never disappear. Sometimes it’s hidden, sure, but it’s bound to come out again sooner or later.”

Leorio waited, a little anxiously, for Kurapika to say something, anything, after he literally just embarrassed himself by sounding like a cheap motivational card, but the blond just let the silence stretch. It was the kind of silence that was a prelude to a heavy onslaught of feelings, or the kind of tensely charged space between one breath of realization and one of surrender. The kind that was too majestic to be filled with inadequate words. When Leorio looked down, he saw an adorably flushed face, although the expression was still very much kept neutrally schooled. But one look into the wavering, unusually luminous stormy gray eyes let him know that this was Kurapika trying too hard. He barked a laugh. “Don’t fight it, sunshine. I made you blush, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t,” Kurapika said tersely, refusing to meet Leorio’s eyes. “Although I’m surprised you managed to come up with a crude analogy that somehow makes sense.”

“Hey, I am always good with my words, I’ll have you know!!”

“Says someone who talked about jerking off in front of most members of the Hunter Association and possibly even the whole nation.”

“Good God, must we go through  _ that _ again??!!” Leorio swore loudly, inciting weird looks from a few passers-by.  _ I swear to God, If I didn’t love this rude motherfucker with my whole being, I would have already Remote Punch-ed him to the moon and back, chains or no chains.  _ “It’s been years and I still find references of it in Internet forums, you know?! I don’t need a reminder from you, too!”

Kurapika’s laughter burst out then, a joyful, musical sound that seemed to steal away everything bleak about winter. He hugged Leorio tighter despite the man’s comically violent mood, burrowing himself into his chest, breathing in the smell of wintry air and sharp cologne on his coat. After a few beats, he heard Leorio sigh in surrender and fond exasperation before hugging him back, resting his cheek on the top of his head. It always amazed him, how rightly they fit together, despite their considerable height difference. It was also funny, how it felt like basically everything in the world was right whenever Leorio was near, how even the view of skeletal trees waving their bare branches somehow filled him with animated hope, how it felt like summer warmth was already heating him up from the inside, no matter how ridiculous that sounded. How Leorio could somehow straighten the converging lines of his past, present, and future, untangling them and making them kinder, better. They said Christmas was typically a time when miracles happen, but he was already holding his miracle right here. The only miracle that mattered. The only miracle he’d ever need.

He kept his eyes on the ice-littered sidewalk as he spoke softly, half-hoping Leorio wouldn’t hear. But of course the man heard him anyway. “Thank you, Leorio.”

“Hmm? What for?”

“For everything.”

“What everything?”

“Everything that has ever been, and everything that will ever be.”

Leorio rolled his eyes so hard he could almost imagine them rattling inside his skull. With an exaggerated sigh, he replied, “For the love of anything that’s holy, Kurapika, would you stop being so cryptic?!”

But Kurapika just answered with a soft laugh. Despite his mounting frustration, Leorio could somehow glean the gist of what Kurapika wanted to say, and he understood that that was probably already the most blunt of a confession his lover could manage right now. Well, he didn’t really mind. Maybe he’d show Leorio just how much he meant to him later, using other ways that do not involve too many grandiose words but meaningful all the same.  _ A man can certainly hope, right? _

He realized he was smiling to himself, his whole countenance softening, his heart turning warmer and lighter, his previous annoyance forgotten. The white, icy landscape seemed to provide an elegant backdrop to the happiness he felt, shrouding his soul in peace and serenity. He bent his head down sideways, his lips grazing Kurapika’s ear as he whispered, “I appreciate you, too, Kurapika. Life used to be so hard, but with you here, it becomes the good kind of hard.”

Kurapika tried to suppress a smirk and failed. “So I don’t make your life easier?”

“That’s right, you don’t. If I want easy, I’m not gonna choose you, you little overdramatic twink.”

Kurapika laughed outright even though he’d just been more or less insulted. “Fair point, old man. But that’s good to know.”

That was when he realized with a start that the cold didn’t even bother him anymore. He just stepped, again, in a puddle of icy water that sent what should have felt like splashes of tiny daggers ripping through his pants and up his legs, but he didn’t even mind. His brain started to conjure logical explanations for this, something about serotonin and body temperature control, but deep down, Kurapika knew that it was just because he was _happy._ Spontaneous, unburdened, all-consuming, making-everything-else-fade-away, dancing-on-air happy. And miraculously, it wasn’t a foreign feeling anymore. 

A sliver of bittersweet thought came into his mind.  _ I’m happy, Mother, Father. I’m happy, Pairo.  _

_ Pairo, look at me. I’m having fun. I’m happy. _

_ I really wish you all could have met him. _

Just then, they passed a group of Christmas carolers in front of a cinema entrance. They didn’t stop to listen, but the song they were singing seemed to follow, resounding in the air even after they started the car and their journey home:

_ “I really can't stay (Baby it's cold outside) _

_ I gotta go away (Baby it's cold outside) _

_ This evening has been (Been hoping that you'd dropped in) _

_ So very nice (I'll hold your hands they're just like ice)” _

Kurapika stole a glance at Leorio from the passenger seat. Well, yes, it  _ was  _ cold outside. Winter was always going to be dreadful to him. But at least he’d always have Leorio’s warmth within, the ultimate fuel to the light he said he saw in him. That gentle, steady heat that had melted away the ice of his loneliness and created a cozy hearth out of broken rubble. As long as he had that eternal summer reigning supreme in his heart, no earthly winter would be too harsh, no ephemeral snow would be too grim. 

After all, the cold outside was but a reminder to bring out the everlasting warmth within.


End file.
